


Keeping Things Professional

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan (Non-Canon AUs) [23]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modeling isn't Orion's passion, by any means. It's merely an amusing diversion that pays the bills until he's finished with law school. But it <i>does</i> come with its own perks.</p><p>Like getting paid to grope a half-dressed Isii Lavellan while she makes bedroom eyes at the camera. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>A Modern AU Modelling fic: a tie-in to <a href="http://adjectivebear.tumblr.com/post/143820945293/the-catalogue-job">Adjectivebear's The Catalogue Job.</a></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Things Professional

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Catalogue Job](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/198556) by Adjectivebear. 



> Admittedly, this fic only has the loosest of ties to Inquisition, as it doesn't feature any canon characters directly. Instead, it is a tie-in to Adjecitvebear's Professor Solas AU, where Isii is a rather famous supermodel. Orion is [arrowmaker247's](http://arrowmaker247.tumblr.com/) DA2 protagonist: a "Hawke" archetype... who happens to be an elf-blooded Tabris.
> 
> Understandably, figuring out how to tag this thing was a bit confusing. 
> 
> It's a bit of smutty self indulgence. I hope you enjoy it.

Waiting was by far the worst part of this job.

Orion absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his leg, his eyes scanning the set for his next shoot to stave off his boredom. While one of the definite perks of his modeling career was the chance to spend so much intimate time with a variety of beautiful women, the downside was the sheer amount of standing around that went into preparation. Hair and makeup and wardrobe went by quickly for him. There was only so much they could do to fuss over a set of tailored dress pants and button-up shirt. His female counterparts were rarely so lucky. So he spent much of his time simply loitering, casually watching the photographer’s assistants as they fiddled with the lighting and coaxed the furniture until their boss was satisfied, often serving as little more than a placeholder while adjustments were made. This room was far darker than the last, all but one window covered to block out the midday sun, the walls draped in heavy velvets and gilded furnishings. A broad, plush bed sat at its center, arranged beside a wide antique mirror that he suspected would play into whatever their photographer had planned for him.

Despite the impressive extravagance, Orion found himself far more interested in pondering when they were going to give him his damn lunch break. He should have brought one of his textbooks with him. At least then he could be doing something productive with his downtime - and he did have a very dense piece of literature on tort law waiting for him to eventually slog through.

It was only when his partner entered the room that his focus drew fully into the present, his eyes widening slightly before he could repress the urge to gawk.

_Sweet Andraste, you are certainly smiling on me today._

Isii, _the_ Isii, the woman so famous as to only need a single name, whose face and considerable other assets were preserved some forty different ways on his hard drive at home- smiled at him as she walked into the room. Clad in a long, black robe and carrying a set of ridiculously tall heels, she extended a hand that he was quick to take. Her ivory hair was in a partial braid, intentionally mussed to artfully mimick the aftermath of some passionate interlude, the rest draped in a wild cascade of ringlets down her back. Her eyes were a much brighter green in person than he had imagined, immediately negating his assumption that it was merely a favored trick of those who touched up her photos for publication.

Her introduction was not necessary, yet she offered it all the same and Orion did his best to appear as equally nonchalant as he gave her his name. She dropped his hand, quickly turning her attention to the photographer as she stooped down to slip on her shoes. “Are we ready to begin, Henri?”

“Oui, Mademoiselle,” the man said with a polite grin. “On the bed, Monsieur, s'il vous plaît.”

Orion did as instructed, stretching out on the mattress as Isii undid the tie to her robe, slipping it off before handing it to one of the assistants. A barely-there balconette with lace the color of honeysuckle looked golden against her dark skin, nipples hardly hidden through the thin fabric. The panties were equally as minimalistic, riding low on toned hips lined with the exotic markings of her Dalish tattoos. She self-consciously smoothed out her hair, looking to the photographer. “Where would you like me?”

 _On top of me would be nice,_ Orion thought silently, unable to keep from grinning as she was directed to straddle his thighs. Her fingers followed Henri’s bidding, slowly unbuttoning Orion’s shirt as he watched her slip into character, eyes heavy-lidded as her lips parted, her back arching as she leaned over him. She was very conscious of the camera’s placement, even as her eyes remained fixed on him, angling herself to suit the viewer’s gaze as she slipped the garment over his shoulder, her nails raking through the dusting of golden hairs across his chest.

“So,” he murmured quietly, his hands brushing over her thighs. “Come here often?”

Isii grinned, her brow arching. “Is that your attempt at small talk?” she asked, her other hand gripping the nape of his neck as she pulled him up to meet her lips. She did not kiss him but hovered, lingering as the shutter clicked loudly.

“I generally like to get to know the women I hop into bed with.”

“Generally,” she echoed with a dismissive hum, pushing his shirt further down his arms. “Good to know you have some standards.”

“Un bisou, s'il vous plaît.”

Isii obeyed the instruction without hesitation, slating her mouth over his own. Orion was surprised by the sudden press of her teeth on his lip, pinching and sucking for only a moment before laving it with her tongue. His hands skimmed quickly up her sides, pulling her closer as she cupped his head between her palms, lingering for only a few shots before her lips went to his throat.

“Moving rather quickly, aren’t we?” he asked with a smirk. “You could at least buy me dinner first.”

She answered only with a chuckle, grabbing a fistful of hair before tugging his head further back, much to the praise of their photographer. “C’est bon,” Henri chimed after a few more photos. “Move onto the pants next. Orion, I want you propped up on your elbows. Isii, scoot further down. Hands on his hips.”

It took a moment for them to readjust, pausing as one of the assistants coaxed the creases of his shirt where it slumped against his arms, primly re-draping Isii’s hair over her shoulder and back as she patiently held the position. Orion wasn’t certain where to keep his eyes during the process, though he did note the rather spectacular view of her breasts at this angle where they hung weightily against the thin lace of her bra. The camera clicked a few more times once the assistant scampered out of the way before Isii was instructed to remove his belt.

Orion couldn’t help but smirk, relishing the rather easy task of laying back and watching while Isii did all the work. She unfastened the buckle, opening the front of his pants, her fingers teasing over his hips as she stretched, cat-like, her back arching as her face skimmed dangerously close to his fly, her eyes fixed on him as she smiled. His cock twitched in response, sending a sudden pang of fear through him as he took a breath.

 _No, Orion,_ he chided himself. _You are absolutely forbidden from getting a raging hard on with a supermodel’s face in your crotch._

He leaned his head back, eyes closed as she kissed along his stomach, her teeth teasing the elastic of his underwear as he tried desperately to think about anything else. Chantry sisters. Really old Chantry sisters. A boring documentary he saw once on how paper was made. Trips to the dentist. Those sexts his mother accidentally sent to his phone.

“Eyes on her, Orion.”

He obeyed despite his reluctance, lifting his hips as she eased his pants down and _Maker,_ she was gorgeous. Breasts spilling from the top of her bra, swaying as she shimmied his trousers down around his knees, biting at her full, plump lips. It was a performance. He knew it was all for the sake of selling sex to the camera, but _damn,_ this woman looked like she wanted to devour him.

They paused again once his pants were off, taking a moment to remove his shoes and shirt as Henri described the next position he wanted them to take. Isii on her knees, facing the large mirror with Orion kneeling behind her, pressed tightly against her back. One hand on her hip, another on her breast. His fingertips skimmed along the low cut of the cup as she arched into his touch, her head tilting with a sigh. His lips brushed over her throat, pressing open-mouthed breaths onto her skin as he stared into the mirror, drinking in the sight of her. Isii’s line of sight was fixed on the camera’s reflection, lusty eyes beckoning an unseen viewer to join them, her body open and inviting and entirely his for the taking. There was something primal in that; in the possessiveness of his hold on her, the heat of her skin against his as his thumb hooked the side of her panties, easing them lower on her hip. She went with it, sliding her hand over his own as if to guide him, rocking her pelvis, her ass brushing against his shaft. The cloth between them did little to stifle the stimulation as a familiar electric feeling started to build at the base of his spine.

Orion slid his hand lower, pressing over the lace trim of her underwear to still her movements but it did little more than coax her into pushing harder against his lap and not a single morbid, unsexy thought could halt the process she’d begun. All he could do was pray that by some miracle, she wouldn’t notice.

“Perfect,” Henri praised, taking another shot. “Very natural. Your first time posing together, no?”

“That’s right,” Isii said. Her tone was casual, as if they were all simply chatting over coffee rather than sitting in a room full of people watching her being groped.

“I would like his hand lower. Beneath the cloth,” the photographer said. “If that is alright with you, mademoiselle?”

Isii’s eyes met Orion’s briefly in the mirror as she shrugged. “I’m up for it if he is.”

 _Oh, I’m definitely up for it,_ Orion thought as he continued to fight a losing battle against his cock. Instead he only answered with a nod and her facade slipped back into place, head tilted back, selling bliss to the camera as his fingers eased into her panties. Smooth, velvety skin met his palm, barely grazing the seam of her lips. He stilled then, uncertain whether or not he should actually move his hand. This was all for the sake of what the camera could see, after all, so he supposed he wasn’t supposed to properly touch her. _It’s not as if there’s a book of etiquette on the subject,_ he thought drearily. _What to Do When You’re Asked to Simulate Fingering Your Coworker._ Instead he merely cupped her mound as she performed her part, a look of softened ecstasy on her face as her hand reached back, fingers curling along the side of his neck.

Isii pressed her hips back once more, chuckling as she brushed against the fullness of his erection. “Getting a little excited, are we?”

“Can you blame me?” he whispered back to her, his lips curling against the length of her ear. “Besides,” he murmured, his thumb circling over her nipple, the stiff bud peaked beneath thin lace. “I don’t think I’m the only one.” He could feel the shudder that trembled through her at his touch, the movement causing his finger to barely part her folds, the slightest hint of slick heat on his fingertip as he slipped over her clit. Her breath caught for a moment, startled.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Don’t be,” she said, smiling before she angled her head back, drawing him into a kiss. Her hand slid over his own, his brow furrowing slightly at the suggested encouragement, his finger curving to take another testing brush against her slit. The sound she made was soft, quiet, barely heard over their breaths and yet definitely there - the slightest hint of a moan muffled against his lips. Orion pressed again, drawing a slow circle around the sensitive bud, keeping his movements subtle in the hopes that their onlookers may not see. Her kiss became more insistent, fingers tightening in his hair as her hips began to rock, grinding herself back against him and _Maker_ if he could only keep from coming then and there in his underwear, it would be a blessing. The hand on her breast reseated itself along her throat, tracing foreign markings as he looked into the mirror, watching as her body writhed. Henri was speaking but he could barely hear the man anymore, focused entirely on this - on the way she moved and squirmed and felt pressed against him, his cock trapped between them. He couldn’t tell how much of it was a performance or how much of it was real and neither seemed to matter much because she was so damn beautiful, falling apart against his hand. He grasped a fistful of her hair, pulling her back from his lips, lingering close and the photographer’s praises passed by like a faint echo as Orion focused on her face, bright green eyes and lips rounded in pleasure, soft sighs following each small pass of his fingertips. He wondered if she was close, if he could make her come like this - faint touches ghosting over the tight bundle of nerves. He wanted to. Desperately. Wanted to know how her face would look, how it would shift and change as she reached her peak, if she would whisper his name as she came undone.

“Alright, I think that’s a wrap,” the photographer said and Orion watched with some surprise as her demeanor completely changed. Isii smiled brightly to Henri through the mirror’s reflection, no longer the trembling embodiment of raw sex. His fingers stilled as she squeezed his wrist, taking the cue to pull his hand away as she crawled forward, climbing off of the bed. Orion was quick to sit down, as it was really his only means of masking his arousal, watching as she bent to remove her shoes, an assistant quickly returning her robe to her.

“That was magnificent, as always,” Henri said, grinning. “The camera truly felt the connection there.”

“I try my best,” Isii answered cheerfully, slipping the garment loosely over her shoulders. She retrieved Orion’s pants from their discarded spot, tossing them to him, grinning as he was quick to set them over his lap. “Good work, Orion,” she said pleasantly, though he was certain she was resisting the urge to smirk. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“I…” He paused, blinking before clearing his throat. “You too.”

And that was that. Isii turned, robe still open as she plucked her heels from the floor with one hand, walking in a graceful stride toward the door. There was no hitch in her step, no hint of desperation or want. It was as infuriating as it was baffling.

The assistants were already striking the set, taking down their lighting rigs as Orion shuffled himself off of the bed, trying as deftly as possible to slip into his pants without revealing the hardened bulge in his boxer briefs. It hadn’t been entirely an act, had it? Certainly she was performing for the camera - but he’d felt her body respond to him, her lips eager and hungry, her breaths hitched and lustful. He knew for a fact that she was wet, dammit, so why was he the one left with a desperate need to jack off while she breezed out of the room as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened?

Orion took his shirt and shoes without comment, grumbling to himself as he headed to Wardrobe so he could change back into his own clothes.

At least he could take his lunch break now.

Though he didn’t suppose he’d spend much of his time eating.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> s'il vous plaît - please  
> Un bisou - a kiss  
> C’est bon - that’s good


End file.
